


Oh, Christmas Tree

by tothemooon



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Don't Judge Me, M/M, This is pure fluff, just bc I can okay, which obviously means Pregnant Louis, with slight Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 06:00:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tothemooon/pseuds/tothemooon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Mm,” Louis hums as he steps back to observe Harry’s work. “You know, what, babe, I think the tree is leaning a bit to the right.”</em>
  <br/>
  <em>“Well maybe you should move it then,” Harry mumbles even as he moves the tree for what feels like the millionth time.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>“Did you say anything, kitten?”</em>
  <br/>
  <em>“No, babe, ‘course not. This better?”</em>
</p><p>Or the one where Harry is completely smitten and will do anything his boyfriend asks, even if it means setting up a Christmas tree in the middle of the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, Christmas Tree

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how I feel about this fic, honestly. It's probably complete shit seeing as I wrote it at three in the morning and just got around to editing. Hopefully it's not as bad as I think it is and I hope at least one person likes it because I'm currently ignoring my five page essay to finish this. Ha.

It is one in the morning and apparently Louis has deemed it a good time as any to wake Harry up.

Not that Harry’s surprised to be awoken at such an ungodly hour, because he’s kinda used to it by now. Apparently, being pregnant causes Louis to wake up at random hours of the night. Like yesterday, when he woke him up for a two-in-the-morning-blowie-he’s not really complaining there-or the night before that when he woke up at precisely four demanding waffles. So, no, Harry’s not really surprised when Louis wakes him up with a poke to the shoulder and a small ‘ _Harry, wake up, kitten’_ whined in his ear.

No, what surprises him is what stumbles out of Louis’ mouth after he’s managed to drag Harry away from his peaceful slumber because, really, who the hell wakes up in the middle of the night wanting to put up a Christmas tree? Like, what?

“ _What?”_

“I said that I think we should put up our Christmas tree,” Louis says calmly as if Harry were a child and it were completely normal to wake up your sleeping boyfriend just to put up a Christmas tree. Three weeks from Christmas. In the middle of the _night._

 _“_ Um, okay?” Harry says as he stares up at the smaller boy perched on top of his chest from when Harry had first attempted to roll onto his stomach and continue sleeping, still not sure why Louis has woken him up. “I mean, we can do it tomorrow after work, if you want?”

Louis rolls his eyes as if Harry is being the absurd one here.

“No, I meant like right now.”

Harry furrows his brow in confusion, because, what the fuck?

“What? Like. Right now _, right now?”_

 _“_ Yes, Harold, ‘ _right_ _now, right now’._ As in this precise instant.”

“Are you _serious?”_

“Completely.”

“ _Lou_ ,” Harry groans, rubbing a hand through his tired face. “It’s late, baby, ‘m tired, can’t it wait till the morning?”

“No, Harold, it cannot wait,” Louis says and Harry sighs.

“And why is that, Lou?” he asks, if only to humour Louis while he thinks of a way to trick the older lad into agreeing to go back to sleep.

Louis looks at him for a moment, letting out a small sigh of his own, as if Harry is tiring him with his unwillingness to cooperate, before sweeping his fringe out of his face.

“Okay, so I had this dream that we were celebrating Christmas, right? And I somehow forgot to set up the Christmas tree and, like, you got mad at me and started yelling and I started crying and somehow that Grimshaw bloke from English class showed up and you said you were leaving me for him and then you kissed him and I tried to pry you away from him but _then_ you started dancing the Macarena for some reason. Oh, and I also gave birth to a baby with three heads and no teeth, but that’s beside the point.”

“Lou, you do realise babies are born without teeth, right?” he giggles, which causes Louis to pout adorably at him, little arms crossed over his chest.

“You’re missing the point, Harold.”

“’m sorry,” Harry says, bringing his palm up to his mouth to stifle his giggles. “Okay, go on.”

“That’s it.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes, Harold, that is what I just said.”

“So,” Harry says, biting back the grin that is threatening to take over his face, “what you’re basically saying is that if we don’t put up a Christmas tree right this instant I’ll end up leaving you for Nick and you’ll birth a baby with three heads, is that it?”

“Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying.”

There’s a beat of silence as Harry stares up at Louis, who is looking at him with what must be one of the most serious faces he has ever seen on the older boy, as if everything he’s said makes total sense and he really does try okay, but, well, it’s not really his fault if he starts laughing.

“I’m being serious, Harry!” Louis says scowling down at him as Harry tries to stifle his laughter, to no avail.

 “ _Oh my god,_ Lou,” Harry manages to wheeze out in between laughs, squirming a bit as he tries to move away from Louis, who has now proceeded to lightly bang his little fists across his chest. “I’m sorry, babe, but just- _that’s so funny, oh god.”_

“Oh, sure, go ahead and laugh,” he says, completely unamused as he watches Harry laugh. “Let’s see if you’ll be laughing same time tomorrow when you’re sleeping on the couch for the next week with no sex.”

This seems to shut Harry right up because he likes having sex, thank you very much. He’s a growing man with a healthy libido and sexy boyfriend, what can he say?

“I’m sorry, Lou,” Harry says once he’s able to catch his breath, looking up at Louis from under his eyelashes, giving him a dimpled grin. “It’s just-you’re being ridiculous, y’know? I’d never leave you, especially not for Nick.”

He pulls Louis down, so that the older boy is resting against his chest, arms wrapped around his middle. Louis sighs, resting his head against Harry’s shoulder, nuzzling his face into his neck.

“I love you and our baby, even if he does end up with three heads.”

Louis giggles a bit at this and Harry smiles, stroking the smaller boy’s hair. He feels Louis relaxing against him, and he is about to suggest they both go back to sleep, when Louis speaks, breaking the silence.

“Do you love me enough to help me put up the Christmas tree?” he asks innocently, pulling himself away from Harry’s embrace, giving him a coy look.

“ _Lou_ ,” Harry groans because all he wants is to go back to sleep and why is the universe conspiring against him?

“I’d do it myself you know,” Louis continues, as if Harry hadn’t spoken, poking at his chest accusingly, “but, I’m not supposed to be carrying heavy objects, because, see, four months ago my idiot of a fiancé decided it was a good idea to knock me up because apparently,” at this, he deepens his voice in an exaggerated attempt at Harry’s deep drawl and Harry groans, “‘ _we don’t need to use protection, Lou, it’s just one time, what’s the worst that can happen_ -”

Harry doesn’t let him finish, already having heard Louis’ impassioned rant about being pregnant and the _energy_ it takes to carry a child and ‘ _it’s your bloody fault I’m in this state, you insensitive twat, the least you could do is spoil me’_ at least a dozen times already, so he reaches up and presses his lips lightly against his, effectively shutting the older boy up.

Besides, Harry knows Louis well enough to know he isn’t going to relent until he’s had his way, even if it means playing the I-let-you-knock-me-up-so-now-you-have-to-do-what-I-say card. Which is completely unnecessary now that he thinks about it because it was pretty much a given that Harry was going to do anything Louis asked as soon as he opened his mouth and gave him that sweet, little, smile.

(And yeah, maybe his mates are right and he’s so, _so_ gone for his boy it’s pathetic but, he’s in love so. What- _ever_.)

“Alright, alright, fine, Lou, you win,” Harry whispers against his lips, letting out a breathy laugh. “Let’s put up that Christmas tree.”

Louis gives him a smug smile, eyes twinkling happily as he leans back down to place a quick, chaste kiss to his lips.

“I’m glad you saw reason.”

~;~

Okay, so maybe Harry should rethink this whole doing-whatever-Louis-says thing.

Because, like, maybe he really _is_ as pathetic as his friends say if he is up at almost two in the morning, in just his boxer-briefs, setting up a fake Christmas tree Harry didn’t even know they owned because they’ve kinda only just moved in together, just the two of them, if only to appease another one of his fiancé’s many demands.

Harry lets out a sigh as he leans back to observe his work. It looks good to him but, this is _Louis_ he’s talking about so, of course, there’s probably something he did wrong. After all, this is probably like the twelfth time he’s had to rearrange the tree. He’s not crossing his fingers.

“What do you think now, Lou?” he asks, turning to look at the smaller boy.

“Mm,” Louis hums as he stands next to Harry, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “You know, what, babe, I think the tree is still leaning a bit to the right.”

“Well maybe _you_ should move it then,” Harry mumbles under his breath even as he crouches back down to move the base of the tree, for what feels like the millionth time.

“Did you say anything, kitten?” Louis asks, giving him an overly fake smile as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“No, babe, ‘course not,” Harry says quickly and he can almost hear the whipping noises Niall would make if he could see him now. Not that _he’s_ any better with Gemma-and no. Harry is so not going there right now. Although maybe thinking of new ways he could murder his best mate in his sleep for dating his sister would help lift his mood. “This better?”

“No, but it’ll do for now,” Louis says, grinning at Harry as he opens a box and produces a string of small Christmas lights. “Now it’s time for the lights!”

He holds out an end of the lights, which Harry takes giving him a smile that drops as soon as Louis turns his back, looking forlornly to the open door that leads to their bedroom, where his warm, cosy bed seems to be calling his name. Louis gets to work, wrapping the set of Christmas lights around the tree, while Harry is given the task of holding on to the end and making sure they don’t work themselves into a knot.

Louis hums to himself as he works the tune to a Christmas carol that Harry recognises as the one a rather drunk Niall had belted out at the top of his lungs at nearly five in the morning once. He can’t help but crack a smile, remembering that Christmas with the boys, nearly three years ago, stuck in Liam and Zayn’s small, crowded  flat with nothing but pot noodle soup and beer to eat because neither of them had managed to get back home for the holidays in time.

“Remember that Christmas, when Niall jumped up on the coffee table and started singing that song?” Harry asks with a small smile.

“Ah, yes, how could I forget such a spectacular performance,” Louis says drily, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, no doubt remembering the little strip show Niall had given them while singing, which still gave Harry nightmares, if he’s being honest.

“It was Christmas Eve babe in the drunk tank an old man said to me,” Harry sings, giving Louis a goofy smile, “won't see another one and then he sang a song the Rare Old Mountain Dew.’”

Harry looks at Louis expectantly, waiting for the next verse and Louis bites back a smile, shaking his head at him.

“I turned my face away and dreamed about you,” he sings back after a beat and Harry laughs as he joins Louis. “Got on a lucky one came in eighteen to one I've got a feeling this year's for me and you…”

They’re completely off-key and Harry’s pretty sure they’ve missed most of the lyrics, and they’re giggling too much to be making any sense, but it’s perfect, really, just him and his boy singing _Fairy-tale of New York_ at the top of their lungs at two in the morning like the two crazy people they are.

“And the bells are ringing out for Christmas day,” Harry bellows out the last part, drawing out the words and shaking his hands around for effect while Louis leans on him, clutching his barely-there-baby-bump as he giggles.

“Thank you, thank you,” he says, bowing to his imaginary crowd of adoring fans consisting of only one-two if you count their unborn baby, which he totally does. “I love you all.”

“God, Haz, you’re so weird,” Louis says as his giggles subside and Harry shrugs, grinning so big it is actually starting to hurt.

“Yeah, but so are you, so we’re even. By the way, the lights look nice.”

Louis really had done a nice job with the lights. They were spread evenly throughout the tree, without any large gaps between them and woven carefully under and around it, so that it looked as if they were a part of the tree itself. It was a nice effect, really.

“Of course they do, H, because _I_ put them up,” Louis says, giving him a smug smile and Harry rolls his eyes fondly.  Louis stands next to him, reaching up on his tiptoes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “But thank you anyway, kitten.”

Harry turns his head and captures Louis lips with his own, snaking an arm around his waist and drawing in the older man closer to his body until they’re both pressed chest to chest. Harry lets out a content sigh at the achingly familiar taste of Louis’ lips on his, their lips moulding perfectly as if they were made for each other. Louis pulls away just as Harry starts to deepen the kiss and he can’t help but let out a small groan at the loss of Louis' warm lips against his-although there’ll be time for more later on, if Louis’ darkened eyes and heaving chest is anything to go by.

Still, he can’t help but complain.

“ _Louis,”_ he whines, reaching out and making grabby hands at his tiny fiancé, who simply shakes his head, smiling fondly.

“No, Haz. No more kissing for you, until we finish the tree.”

“Please?” he says, jutting out his bottom lip in that way he does, whenever he wants Louis to do something for him. It usually works nine out of ten times. Of course, Harry isn’t that lucky.

“No and if you keep asking, then no Louis for you tonight.”

“Fine,” Harry says, letting out a long and overly-dramatic suffered sigh as he sulks his way over to the box labelled ‘ornaments’.

“Sulking doesn’t suit you, love,” Louis says, reaching up to pat Harry’s cheek as he kneels down next to the box, throwing it open.

He reaches a hand inside, pulling out what appears to be a wooden clothespin with one googly eye still attached to it, a yellow pipe cleaner attached to the top, surrounded by a blue paper doily.

“Oh my god, Haz, look,” he says excitedly and Harry scratches the back of his neck as Louis brings the stick closer to his face for inspection.

Harry settles for a nice, safe ‘ _hmm’_ and a small smile because he honestly has no idea what it’s supposed to be.

“It’s a Christmas angel, you dolt,” Louis says with a smile as if he’s read his mind, rolling his eyes. “I made it in primary school. I’ve got some of yours here too, look.”

He reaches back into the box, bringing out what is supposed to be a Santa Claus made entirely out of popsicles sticks and yes, Harry remembers making that in Ms Jenner’s class back in third year.

“Where’d you get those?” Harry asks curiously as Louis sets to work, placing the ornaments onto the tree.

Louis shrugs, fiddling with the ornaments in his hand. “Last time I went down to visit mum she gave me a box full of old Christmas ornaments for our tree. And I asked your mum for some of yours.”

“You’re wonderful, did you know that?” Harry asks and he knows his voice sounds ridiculously fond, but he can’t bring himself to be care.

He walks to Louis and takes both ornaments from his hand, reaching down to press a lingering kiss to his lips.

Louis blushes as he walks back to the box, setting himself down beside it, biting his lip, the corners of his mouth tugging upward as he gives him another little shrug.

“Just wanted our first official Christmas as a family to be special.”

Harry can’t help but smile at that and he knows he’s probably staring at Louis with what his mates call his ‘creepy love stare’ that, according to them, makes him look like a murderous frog, but Harry can’t bring himself to care. It’s just. He can’t believe he’s actually _here_ , with Louis, sharing a flat, engaged, and expecting a _baby_ no less, setting up their first _official_ Christmas tree, can’t believe that this lovely, lovely boy is actually his and somehow loves him just as much as he loves him. It’s almost. _Surreal_.

He can’t help himself, either, if he strides over to where Louis is sitting and drops to his knees, pulling the smaller boy into his arms, pouring all of his love and emotions into the hug. Louis seems to melt into his embrace and he can feel him smiling from where he has his face pressed against his neck and it’s all just so _perfect_.

And, yeah, he does have to be up early tomorrow to get to work, but he decides he doesn’t give a damn. Because it’s just him and his boy and _their_ baby, in their new home and he wouldn’t change a thing and he’s kind of glad he let Louis talk him into setting up a Christmas tree in the middle of the night because it might be a bit crazy, yeah, but it’s so _them_ , so he doesn’t mind, really.

He’s kind of expecting it, when Louis leans into him after they’ve finished setting up the decorations and they’re admiring their work, biting his lip and giving him a shy smile as he looks at him from under his eyelashes, whispering tentatively into his ear:

“I still think the tree is leaning a bit to the right, Haz.”

Harry can’t help but throw back his head and laugh as he pulls the smaller man closer to his body because he’s so, _so_ in love with his boy it’s ridiculous. But that’s okay, because he knows Louis loves him just as much, so maybe they can be ridiculous together, for the rest of their lives.

And, yeah, that does sound incredibly sappy and Louis would probably scoff at him for thinking that, but Harry doesn’t mind. Not one bit. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, the ending sucked, I know.


End file.
